Chess
by Coco-Minu
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be. Drabble series, character introspectives. HughesxGracia, hinted RoyxRiza and EdxWinry.
1. King

Summary:_ Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be._

Pairings: Hinted RoyxRiza.

Dedication: Jenny Grammy, the person to review, then favourite me as an authour (for which I was immensly flattered) because of my lonely RoyxRiza. This is my personal thanks to you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

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**_ King_**

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Roy found some things extreamly ironic. One of these things being the French language. Mostly because when he found an old chess set in an antique shop, he had not known the translation of King in French.

_Roi._

Sure, it was not exactly his name. But it was pronouced the same way, with almost the same lettering. So if he was ever born French, he may have been called Roi. Right? They must have known his intention to become Fuhrer in France or something, he thought stupidly. The thought did not pass without a childish grin though.

He smirked down at the pieces in front of him which he had purchased, looking at all of them carefully. The fine carved wooden details on each piece, intricate and handmade. He wondered for a moment how long it took the person who made them to carve them. How long it took to make the King. How long it took to make the King as flawless as the Queen was.

Looking up across the room, he saw the Queen herself sitting there going through the paperwork which was supposed to be his. Looking down at the newly-purchased pieces himself, he felt guilty. How powerful would the piece of the King be without the Queen to help it out? He did not know the rules of chess, but he had the feeling it would not be very far. Maybe it was true. He sighed aloud. Behind every great man, there was indeed an even greater woman.

Disregarding the chess set a moment, he sat up straight and looked at the clock. It was their lunch break, and they were both supposed to be in the Mess Hall right at that moment. She seemed to disregard this fact though, continuing to sort through the seemingly neverending piles of paper upon her desk. Which he was responsible for not doing.

"Are you coming to lunch, Dame Hawkeye?" He asked. She looked up, clearly knowing that he was adressing her. After all, she was the only other person in the otherwise empty room. A look of rage contorted upon her face a moment, then she reached for a gun. She fired two warning shots into the wall, thinking he was insulting her. A Dame? She grew angrier on the thought. His smile dropped instantly.

Leaving the paperwork on the table for him to do instead (although she knew he would not, and she would just end up doing more later) she marched out of the room angrily. How dare he speak to her like that, after all she done for him? He looked at her befuddled a moment, then realised that she thought he meant it in the _save-me-damsel_ kind of way like the women in fairytales that all children are told when they are young. The weak Princesses. The distressed Dames.

When really, he had just called her the _**Queen.

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**_

So yes, it was short. But what did you expect? It was a drabble. Reviews are appriciated, and make me update quicker.


	2. Queen

Summary: _Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be._

Pairings: Hinted RoyxRiza.

Dedication: MoonStarDuchess, the first review of my RoyxRiza which was written so long ago. Thank you for your amazingly kind words! You really cheered me up with your review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

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**_Queen_**

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It was hard to find the glamour there. It could take weeks, it could take years. In their job, that was. Riza looked up at the dismal sky, which was showing signs it was ready to release a downpour of merciless rain upon both her and the Colonel. She frowned.

Walking down the road, the Colonel finally stopped outside the shop she assumed was where he had bought the troublesome item to begin with. The chess board. Not to mention the many, many,_ many_ pieces which came with it. In particular, the Queen.

Indicating to her that it was indeed the shop, she changed her path and followed him back down the road as the sky began to rumble. However, she still did not feel inclined to follow him into the shop. As he walked inside the building, she waited outside. As if on cue, that was the exact moment the rain began. Just like she had predicted.

The rain soaked through her standard issue blue hessin uniform, seeping through the plain black shirt she wore underneath and through the thin material it was made of until she could feel it soaking her pale skin. She shived, but did not bother her. Not in the slightest. Or so she told herself, at that moment in time. The rain was nothing. Insignificant. _Annoying_.

She heard the bell of the door ring, indicating that somebody had just walked out of the shop. She did not pay much attention to this fact however, just absorbing her surroundings. Letting the rain fall, plastering her blonde hair to her cheekbones and the cold wind that blew harshly flush her cheeks from pink to red so they did not entirely fit her complexion. But that did not matter. Not to Colonel Mustang. Not to Mustang. Not to Roy.

"Hawkeye? Are you ok?" He asked softly. She was now smiling like a maniac, looking up at the sky brightly although rain was soaking her body. She wanted a chess set. Looking at him with a small grin in return, she turned upon her tail back into the shop, leaving him befuddled outside.

Moments later, she re-emerged from the place with the chess board under her arms once more. The rain continued to pour down, but he just smiled too in return to hers. She had just realised what he meant. In French, the Dame was the _Queen._

"_Roi_, you are useless in the rain." She told him, half laughing and half her usual stoic self who kept him in line. He had a feeling rather than doing paperwork today, they would be playing a few games of chess. That would make a nice difference. The Queen needed some entertainment every now and then. All Queens did.

If he had listened correctly however, he may have just noticed her playful fake French accent. He might of noticed that she did not adress him as Roy, but instead Roi. The King in a game of chess. Not just any King, though. She grinned as the rain began to clear up. Yes, it was hard to find the glamour there. It could take weeks, it could take years. But at least she had him by her side. Her Roy. Her _Roi_.

_**Her King.

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**_

So this was kind of fluffy, but I could not help but continue on from the last chapter slightly. Or use the line from the anime. Useless in the rain. I just love it. Although it was kind of out of character, I could just not help entertaining the idea. All reviews were very much appriciated, as you will see in later chapters. So reviews again, anyone? They make me happy, and I thank those who do so.


	3. Rook

Summary: _Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be._

Pairings: HughesxGracia. Husband and wife, so it cannot be questioned.

Dedication: winglessfairy25 (or Erinn, whichever you prefer). For your reviews on Pocketwatch, and the previous two chapters of this without complaint of me not yet mentioning you. Thank you for your patience and kind words!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

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_**Rook

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**_

Gracia sighed, looking at the clock that sat upon the top of her mantelpiece. The hands no longer moved, frozen in one place for over twenty years now. The soft tinkling music that had played every hour no longer came, instead leaving her in silence as time passed by. Before she had known it, her life had become fleeting. Days without him had dwindled into weeks, drifting into months, gliding softly to land in a year each time she swore she could hear the machinery inside it tick once more as the cogs began to move and Maes was there again.

Yes, he would be there. When she was around twenty years younger, no wrinkles creasing her careless face. Youthful love that had shown them through, even when Maes had first taken up a position at the military. She was worried, but had been assured it was only paperwork. Nothing could possibly happen to him. He was a lower rank than Mustang and his trusted subordinate Hawkeye, the latter of which had become good friends with Grazia. So there was nothing to worry about, nothing at all. She should be more worried for the Colonel and his First Lieutenant, if anyone had to be fussed about to begin with. After all, it was just a desk job.

So here she sat, old and ripe with age like the bottle of old mulled wine from so many years ago which they had shared on their wedding night. They had never finished it all, and it now sat in her cellar. Almost as aged as was, but still valued. Unlike the wine, she had a mantle to uphold. She could no longer follow tempting offers of her friends. Most of them had passed on. Most of them had moved on, and now she was left. Of course, what did she expect?

He was sitting with her right now, playing chess. Smile on his face as ever, asking her how Elysia was. She smiled back in contentment at her wrinkled husband, telling her she was fine. She was going to a foreign land in some amount of time, to further her studies. She would come here tonight to say goodbye to them both, did he not remember that she told him? He laughed in return, pushing one of his figures forward to stand as a defence for the King.

Just as she was about to go past and win once more with a grin as she said checkmate, the doorbell rang. Although her bones were now old, her hair grey and thin, she pulled herself out of her seat with aching joints from her arthritis and beamed as she managed to open the door with a soft creek. Her daughter of seventeen or so stood there, beaming back at her mother with such a great cheer that she could not help but feel her grin brighten even more.

"Mother, how are you?" She asked, stepping inside as Gracia ushered her in. She nodded to Maes, who smiled at his daughter. She was lucky that she still had such a great family. Lucky they had all their family still here. Still alive. Then she looked at the figure she had moved forward.

She finally feels herself coming back to the harsh reality.

Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal sightseeing orbs that scanned the beige bedroom, and although so much time had passed she felt herself reach out her arms so that she would be able to wrap them around the man who lay next to her. Only to find that he was not there. Such a nice dream, it had been. She felt herself frown, then pulled herself out of bed gently so as not to wake the husband and wife with their only son that lived below her.

Scraping her hair back into a now iron grey bun and putting on her dressing gown, Gracia exited her bedroom without a word. There was nobody to talk to anymore, so none neaded to be said. She found herself going through the lounge area in order to reach the kitchen, only to find herself staring at the clock from so many yesteryears ago. Even though she now was not dreaming, it still did not work. It had belonged to the grandfather of her husband anyway. Not that it mattered now.

Then she saw her reflection shine in the glass protecting the gold hands, although they no longer ticked. She frowned for the second time that morning. She did not look well. Looking down at the chess set beneath it on a small wooden table, she frowned a third time. Somebody had left the pieces out again. Probably Elysia, if she had been around. Not that she could remember.

But Elysia was not there. Elysia was not busy being educated like in her dream, however. Elysia was at work. Shifting paperwork just like her father had done. She was in the military, taking up his mantle. No matter how much her mother had protested. It had not changed anything.

Gracia felt her eyes drift to the Rook, looking at it distainfully. In each chess game it could move horizontally or vertically, forward or back, through any number of unoccupied squares. It also took part in a special move involving the King and itself as a pair known as castling. But only in certain conditions.

One of which was that the King was not able to pass through any squares under attack by enemy pieces. The King, Roy Mustang, would not be attacked by anybody though. The Rook would take the blows for it, just like Maes had done for Mustang. Just like Elysia was now doing as she took up the mantle of her father. After all, Gracia had found out what paperwork had consisted of first hand. So had Elysia. She should know better by now.

Gracia decided that she did not like it at all.

_**The Rook, that was.

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**_

Mhm, I do not actually like the way this one came out. But I wanted to include some HughesxGracia in this, no matter if he is dead or not. Hughes still needs love (although it would make Gracia a slight necrophiliac, when you think about it). So, reviews anyone?


	4. Bishop

Summary: _Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be._

Pairings: HughesxGracia. Armstrong and Gracia friendship.

Dedication: The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, a reviewer of my RoyxRiza a while back. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm sorry I had not yet done you a chapter if you were bored of waiting for it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

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_**Bishop**_

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"_Fou_, huh?" Major Alex Louis Armstrong looked at the chess piece in front of him with a look of scrutiny upon his features. He looked at the indents upon the small figurine, wondering about the name that the French had supposedly given it. According to Havoc, anyway. He would not put it past him just to be trying to annoy him by saying he was like it.

He always thought the deep groove had been made to symbolise a mitre of a holy figure, such as an abbot or a bishop like it was said to be. But Havoc had gone and insisted it had different meanings in different continents all over the territory within their boundaries. Then had gone on to say what they had nicknamed the bishop in French. He heard the door click open, and looked up as he was distracted from his thoughts as to why Havoc had said he was like the bishop to begin with. He did not think he was.

"Louis, do you know where the desk of my husband is?" A small brown-haired woman poked her head through the door, a painful-looking smile seeming to be forced upon her features. He recongnised her at once. Grazia Hughes. She must be here to clean out his desk. Frowning in sympathy, he stood up and walked to the door with his footsteps echoing loudly. He had met her a few times before, and she was a kind woman. She did not deserve to have something like this happen to her. But bad things _often_ happened to good people in the military. Infact, usually _more_ than_ often_.

"Mrs Hughes, please follow me." Opening the door for her, he let her step outside before shutting it firmly behind himself and directing her down the corridor. She shivered slightly at the cold as they entered the room, then her eyes seemed to drift upon a chess set in the corner of the room. They seemed to linger longer on certain pieces, but he said nothing.  
"Maes never told me he could play chess." She said quietly, looking around the room. He felt a sudden stab of pity for her. He had seen so many widows walk the dark streets at night into this building, only to find some tiny things they felt they should not have missed about either their husbands or their wives. He hardly knew how to console them. It was difficult.

"He sometimes played with Colonel Mustang, but not very often." He said softly, not expecting much of a change in her tired and withdrawn mood. He had seen it so many times before. So many times. But it did not stop the terrible feeling it brought with it. Never.

A bright smile came upon her face, and she looked at him with such joy he could have sworn she really wanted to cry beneath it all. But infact, it truly seemed she did not. Her grin only brightened when he looked perplexed. It was like she had a new found joy, although he could not for the life of him understand why. It was infective, and he found himself grinning back. He just could not help it.

"It's strange how you never ask these little things. I should ask more." She beamed, looking at him. He had the strangest feeling about this woman. Sure, he was the strong arm alchemist. But she was something else.

He understood why Havoc had called the bishop a _fou_ now when he had compared him to it. A _fou_ was a_ fool _in French, and he felt like it suddenly when talking to her. He had the strange feeling that they were going to become good friends as he helped her pack the stuff away, constantly telling jokes to cheer her up and pretty soon they found they had a good amount in common. Yes, Major Alex Louis Armstrong was certain after their conversation. They would become_ great_ friends.

_**Not to mention he was most certainly the bishop.

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**_

So...Armstrong. I like his character, so sentimental. I just love it. He deserves more love, much more. Not to mention his sister, although cold, is awesome. All reviews are loved and appriciated. Thank you to those who have reviewed so far, and thank you very much to all those who do in advance.


	5. Knight

Summary: _Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be._

Pairings: Hinted EdxWinry.

Dedication: OTP. I need to thank everyone who reviewed my RoyxRiza, and you were next on my list. Thankyou very much for reviewing my first Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction.

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**_Knight_**

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Winry did not know what to be more offended at. The fact that some random person had pratically called her a very rude word with no reason for doing so, or the fact that she did not figure this out until he had walked away muttering under his breath saying the very word he had been insinuating that she was and Alphonse looked very embaressed about it before asking the man to apologise as polietly as he could manage. She could feel her blood pressure rising at the very thought. He did not even know her, but he had called her something awful. How dare he! She slammed her fist on the metal mess hall table, unalarmed by indent that was left in the wake of the force she used to do so.

_Cavalier_, what a word.

She would have not been offended if he was not calling her a _cavalier King Charles spaniel_. A dog. In specific, a _female dog_. She grabbed the spanner on the desk in front of her, twirling it around in her hands and smacking it into her palms at the odd moment in frustration. If he were there right now, this would not just be aimed at him like it was aimed at Edward in order to keep the lovable idiot in line. It would be shoved up his-she tried to keep her calm-she had promised Pinako she would try to remain civilised unlike her male companions-before she had left. Even if it was only a thread or a smudge of being a female, Winry was a lady. Ladies did not use such vulgar language.

She heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see Edward entering with a chess board. A chess board, of all things. Her brow furrowed. What was he doing? Intending to take up carrying it around as a new hobby? He seemed to sense her fowl mood, as he looked up wearily to smile at her with a hint of faked fright in his eyes. She growled.

"What do you want, Edward?" She checked his automail with her eyes, scanning for any form of defect in it. It looked fine to the naked eye. A few scratches, but nothing that could have seriously damaged it. He detected her dark tone, then barely managed to dodge the spanner as it hit the wall behind him and fell to the cold stone floor with a large thud.

"What was that for? I was going to try and cheer you up!" A suprised yelp came as he placed the chess board on the table in front of her with a now slightly angry and forced grin. She sighed. Might as well just let him get on with it before she aimed another one. In a much different, very much more painful place to give him the clear message to leave her alone. She did not want to be cheered up. Not now.

"See this piece, Winry? You are alike to it." He asked, lifting up a piece shaped like a horse. She growled, and he jumped out of his seat to avoid the second spanner. Well, at least that was the tools she carried around gone.

"Are you saying I am a horse?" She thundered. He shook his head in a no.

"I am saying you are the _cavalier_, just like Alphonse is." He told her as her face went a bright red in anger. That was not a good sign.

"I am not a _female dog_!" She yelled, smashing her hands into the table once more.

"Strong, otherwise known as armoured cavalry. A _cavalier_." He told her before retreating from the room, leaving a steaming Winry to wait for her lunch hour to pass so she would be slightly calmer. After all, she would figure it out soon enough. However, it was not until she asked Riza Hawkeye she knew what exactly he meant.

_**Cavalier was French for the Knight.

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**_

Although there is only one chapter to go. The last dedication will not necessarily be the last on this fanfiction, at least. So, reviews? All are much appriciated.


	6. Pawn

Summary: _Contrary to popular belief, the military was organised. Just not in the way in which anybody would expect it to be_. 

Pairings: Hinted EdxWinry.

Dedication: Hyrugi Kitsune, the second reviewer of Pocketwatch all that time ago.

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**_Pawn

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_**

Edward sat under the pine tree, the small chess figure grasped in his white gloved hand as he toyed with it absently. He had come across a few things in the search for the ruby red stone all those years ago. He no longer even pleased himself by saying the name of it. After all, in this land, he could no longer do alchemy. What use was an alchemist without it? None. That he knew for certain. The strange thing was, this thought did not bother him. After all, he had never been so close to his prize.

The prize he had sought after all those years ago. Yes, it was true he had given up on it and no longer was tempted on the mention of the name of it. Or so he liked to tell himself. This realm had shown great interest in his prize many centuries ago, according to a book one of the men he had met upon his travels had shown him. Their so-called alchemists had tried to make it, just as he had. But they had all failed, and so had he. So why was he still so interested in it?

The Ogham Staves, of course. Runes. Runic divination. Whatever way you liked to think about it. He had thought it would help calm his mind about the idea of such a stone, just possibly. He had taken to alot of pieces he had found out about. The beth, or the birch. One of the first trees to grow on bare soil. Helped in the construction of the entire forest. The luis or rowan, the tree long known for aid or protection. He opened his hand, revealing the piece.

_A pion._

Now, according to the Ogham Staves, the pine tree was evergreen. The needles of it were a valuable source of vitamin C and could loosen a tight chest. Supposedly could deal with feelings of guilt, like that he had when he saw the look upon her face when she realised he would be leaving again. Pine indicated issues of guilt within you. The look of hurt and anger. For sure, Winry brought out the best in him. But he had left her alone in the world, somewhere inbetween his and her reality.

Physically, in divination the pine was used to clear the slate with those you had hurt and renew your relationships. Well, it was too late for that. Mentally, creativity was supposed to be released as you released the guilt. The energy would change into a positive action. He had used them over and over, but still nothing came to mind. Spiritually, it was supposed to transform both you and the guilt. Fat lot of good that did, seeing as he still felt perfectlly the same as ever. Apart from the fact he was not in his own world. Near his own home.

In chess, the pawn was the weakest piece. So many to sacrafice, pointless and only capable of very limited movement between a bear minimum of black or white squares. They represented the infantrymen, although he preffred to think of them more as armed peasants. Although in the official rules of chess the pawn was not distinct, many players refused to accept it as a piece for the simple fact in was hard to utilise in a game. Pratically the sacraficial toy for the enemy to play around with.

Sure, when he had left his world Winry had been upset. But she had said one word to him that stuck in his mind when he had returned for that short amount of time. A sentence, infact. Of which one word stuck like fly paper or superglue, for certain. He would never forget it.

"Edward, stop being the _pawn_ of the military! You deserve better!"

He would never forget those words until he truly figured out what they meant. She may have just said it as an offhand comment, but it still remained implanted in his brain and knawed at it viciously when he thought about her.

For a pine tree was a pion according to the Ogham Staves, and in French a pion was the chess piece. The one she had compared him to. The one she had pratically called him, if that had been the meaning of what she had said.

_**He was the pawn.

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**_

So, sorry if that confused you. This is set after the movie. The Ogham Staves are basically pieces used in Celtic divination. Of which one is the pine, or the pion as it is mostly called by followers. The pawn is also a pion in French, so something just clicked there. Search the Ogham Staved on google if I make no sense. It might be better for you to have direct information rather than my rather terrible explanation.

All those who have not yet recieved a thanks for your review(s), please expect it in my RoyxRiza 100 themes. I've decided to take upon the challenge of it soon. Probably later this week or next week. So anybody who actually reads my writing, more Fullmetal stuff will be out soon. Have some faith in me, difficult as it is. As this was the final chapter, the final piece in a game of chess. Although as stated, many do not count it as a piece.

All reviewers are loved.


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